


Why Would I Waste Another Light On You?

by Hopestill



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Minor Spoilers, hinting at flayn/sylvain, mentions of the church crew, no betas we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:42:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24625684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hopestill/pseuds/Hopestill
Summary: The teachings of the Goddess are supposed to help guide one in life. Guiding one to what, though, is up to a healthy amount of personal interpretation.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	Why Would I Waste Another Light On You?

**Author's Note:**

> *gestures to my profile* wow it sure is dusty in here! :^) 
> 
> Anyway hi hello I love Seteth and Flayn a whole lot and when I got gripped by the idea of a character study for Seteth it wouldn't leave me be.  
> Title from For You by Loveless.

_Selfishness is in opposition to the Goddess’ teachings. For what brings her honor more than treating her creations well? _

~*~

Seteth couldn’t bring himself to behave at one of the Archbishop’s meetings. He folded his hands and drummed his fingers against knuckles on his other hand. When did every word out of her mouth begin to set him off? Centuries he listened to her every word, believed in her interpretation of the word, held it reverent to the very core of his being, and yet now when she speaks of the Professor he can’t bring his faith to the forefront. 

Yet, Catherine looked on with reverent devotion, Shamir with disinterest, and Manuela and Hanneman might as well have been at a stereotypical business meeting. _If this was a crisis of faith-_

What could he have done if it was? Pack up with Flayn, force her on the road once more, the two of them eternally wandering with no end in sight? If only _she_ was still here, _she_ would know what to do, oh _she_ was so wise and kind.

“Seteth, what troubles you so?”

Rhea’s words dug underneath his skin. All eyes turned to him, prying against the cracks in the armor he determined to wear at each confrontation. 

“It is nothing. Nothing that can’t be solved by further meditation on the Goddess.”

~*~

_Remember, dear children, that you were born from the Earth - there will come a time where you must return to it. Do not be afraid, for I will guide you to peace. _

~*~

Sea salt in the air reminded him of her. Her long hair, how she would ask him to brush it for her each morning, how she would encourage his stories and listen to him read fables to her and their daughter every night - these thoughts prodded him as he poured over verse after verse, praying that increased time in prayer would somehow bring him a further sense of salvation. “Goddess, what am I doing wrong?” 

He closed the book and exhaled a deep breath. He could barely focus on the words, visions of her dancing in his mind with every blink, every momentary darkness bringing with it a light and strangely distant feelings tightening in his chest. These feelings - they weren’t something a man in his position could feel. Not anymore. He wouldn’t allow himself the luxury. 

It was too late to go fishing, but not late enough to write a new fable for the students by candlelight. He lit the candle (in reality, a pile of repeatedly melted wax, burned longer than it truly should have; the aptness was not lost on him) on the corner of his desk, picked up a quill, and began to translate the visions in his head onto paper. 

A grand tale unfolded in front of him, of knights and foul beasts, of justice and light prevailing over chaos and dark, of everything right with the world. Family, friends, strangers all gathered and shared dialogue of their hopes for the world, a world bound as one working for a common purpose. The desire for this world kept him writing well into the deepest dark of the night, until the flickering of the candle was all that kept him from the encroaching abyss.

Until it stared back at him on the paper. A woman with long hair had found herself in the story, had kept talking with the knight. Oh how she laughed with joy at his tales, and would ask him to brush her hair before setting off on his grand, epic quest. This story thread - it was bound to go somewhere, it would do the fable no good to leave it on the ground. And yet the words stopped. Seteth bit his bottom lip and furrowed his brow at the paper, at the scribbled out words surrounding her. What was this feeling for her, anyway? What guides the knight to do all of this for her?

The darkness surrounding him began to creep slowly onto the desk and the paper the longer he stared at it, the longer he felt these strange feelings grip his heart, begin to consume his mind. The very luxury he stopped allowing himself to feel - what _was_ it, truly? He feverishly scribbled over all mentions of this woman and blew out the candle. 

That was more than enough temptation for one night. 

~*~

_All of My creation is equal. When you teach others about Me, remember this, and guide your words with love. _

~*~

“Father.”

Seteth immediately looked up from his quill and parchment, mouth agape. The story was flowing better now, a tale of a knight on a quest to glorify the Goddess (certainly not for that woman from before), but the words halted with a crash. The words on the tip of his quill ceased as his daughter, his flesh and blood glared back at him from across the table. “Father, what is the meaning of this?”

“Flayn, you know we cannot-”

“It matters not how I address you when it is just the two of us.” Even underneath her frilly sleeves, he could tell her fists were balled. Her bright green eyes shone with a flame brighter than her joyous soul. His mouth tightened into a thin line, realization and coherency finally gracing him. “That was uncalled for.”

He rose an eyebrow. “I do not know what you are talking of.” 

“You cannot simply threaten every man behind my back. If I am to make friends, I need not have you hovering over me like… Like an unwelcome shadow.” Seteth set the quill down, exhaling as the residual ink pooled over the lettering in his story. 

“I know too often what happens to girls who find themselves… enticed with the opposite sex.” He folded his arms across his chest and stood up to his full height. 

Usually that worked. 

“I am merely trying to protect you from what could happen.”

“You always protect me, but I am not a mere child anymore.” Flayn mimicked the gesture, puffing out her chest and crossing her arms. The fire in her eyes only grew as she clearly pondered over her choice of words. “I can protect myself; to learn that is why you let me join the Professor’s class, is it not so? So why do you hound me and any boy who I try to be friends with? Or even-”

“You may be able to protect yourself on the battlefield,” Seteth relaxed his posture and approached the girl, “but emotional matters are wholly different.” She didn’t reciprocate. He sighed and put his hands on her shoulders. “After what happened with the Death Knight, I… I don’t want you going alone with anyone. If this is what I have to do to keep you safe, then so be it.” 

Flayn shook her head, defiance changing to a look of understanding, if not accepting. “That is a burden you have chosen to carry. I did not ask you for this. There will always be danger in the world, but if we are not open to others, then we have failed the very core of the Goddess’s teachings, is that not so?”

“I… Suppose you are right.” Seteth cleared his throat. “Even so, I must caution you. Especially against that red haired boy from the Blue Lions. I will not see any harm fall upon you, especially from one such as him.” He pulled his daughter close, into a tight embrace; the lack of a hug in return only bothered him if he focused on it. Why focus on that if he could instead ensure she stayed with him? 

If he couldn’t keep his wife, he could keep the culmination of their relationship. 

~*~

_ Meditate upon My words, and see to it you fulfill them. Do not misinterpret what I have written.  
_

~*~

The battlefield was incredibly familiar at this point. He spent far too many years preaching her teachings and acting the opposite - under the blanket of her words, he massacred those who didn’t believe, didn’t follow, didn’t even consider that she might be the ticket to salvation. Was she? Even he wasn’t sure. 

The only thing he knew he could be sure of was the blood on his lance, the crumpled bodies around him, the way it soaked through his clothes and stained the navy blue a deep dark purple. 

“Seteth…”

“Ah, Flayn.” 

The steadiness in his voice should have calmed her, as a father speaking to his daughter, so why did she look so scared? He turned his back on the fires, embers rising high into the night sky. They almost looked like stars, floating on insurmountable heat. There was a crunch on his boot as he stepped on the corner of some poor soul’s face, followed by a squish. A yelp from Flayn, and she covered her mouth with her hands - this was illogical, she should know she has nothing to be afraid of here! 

“How could you…?”

She shifted her left foot back behind her, and took another step away from him. She looked behind her - there was a tall, young man with red hair, an expression of worry on his face that quickly morphed into an expression of anger.

“Flayn…?” 

“This horror is not what we are called to do!”

With that outburst, she turned on her heel and ran as fast as she could, stumbling over rocks and broken weapons into the redhead’s arms. He swooped her up in a hug, holding her close to him as he took off in a sprint. Seteth’s breath hitched in his throat as he reached out his hand (stained crimson), calling her name ceaselessly, voice cracking upon each chant of her name, until finally, with the energy of a dying star, 

“You’re all I have left.”

There was no way the two had heard him. His daughter was headstrong - full of folly at times - and that man would have enchanted her, bewitched her with some fancy words and earthly riches. That man, with no drive or desire, following his own gospel of intimacy and sex, tearing what little remained of his family apart, away from him?

Oh no. He would not _stand_ for this. 

He gripped his spear tighter. The sound of armor rustling behind him awoke him from his self inflicted stupor. The goddess may be kind, but she had such _potential_ for vengeance - just not in the way Rhea saw it. 

Once he finished her crusade, he would allow himself the privilege of another.


End file.
